The Ain't A Meeting - A Sopranos Story
by Jape77
Summary: Corrado Soprano and his younger brother Johnny have been called to meet a rising star from one of the Five Families. But is he friend or foe?


"This Ain't a Meeting"

A Soprano's Story

By John Price

There's a moment when you wake from sleep in the morning, in fact just before you wake, that is a perfect inflection point between conscious and unconscious, like being born again. Everything your conscious mind knows is absent for a fleeting moment before the fog lifts and you remember who you are, what you know and what you need to do that day. Sometimes you have a feeling it's going to be a good day. Others you feel pure dread.

If you asked Corrado 'Junior' Soprano on this particular day, it would be an unsettling mix of both. He had awoken a little late and was dressing quickly in front of a full-length mirror. Tall, lean and a little gangly, he wasn't handsome but carried himself well and cut an elegant figure in tailored clothes. He chose a sport coat and slacks today – not too smart, not too casual. Wiry, tense and nervy-looking, he was tough, but not built to fight. His face could look severe due to smallish narrow eyes which peered down his prominent nose and the fact that he rarely smiled. This was offset, disguised even, by his thick dark-rimmed glasses and the brimmed hats he wore due to his thinning hair. The hat and glasses gave him a softer appearance, more like a normal civilian than a wiseguy. In reality he was mean, vain and serious, and not to be taken for a mark.

His fairly modest rented house in a middle-class New Jersey suburb belied the fact that he was a reasonably wealthy young man. He had no wife and family and made a lot of ready cash from gambling, loan-sharking and extortion as well as a couple of small businesses he was a partner in. His income along with an aversion to paying taxes should have made him very comfortable but he also knew how to spend money. It went as easily as it came - on gambling, women, cars and expensive clothes.

He rushed out of the front door, climbed into a blue 1965 Oldsmobile Cutlass and set off to attend to the day's business. A few blocks away, he pulled up outside his brother's apartment and honked the horn. Johnny Boy appeared at the upstairs window bare-chested.

"You're late!" He yelled.

"Then why aren't you dressed?" an irritated Corrado yelled back.

A few minutes later Johnny appeared at the front door, slamming the door behind him and nearly tripping over a child's bicycle on the sidewalk. He was slightly shorter than his elder brother, heavier set with thick black hair and would have had movie-star good-looks were it not for a boxer's nose and carrying a few too many extra pounds. He had been a good athlete, excelling at football and basketball in high school. Corrado had played a little basketball, but Johnny-Boy was the sports star of the family and could have got a scholarship. In the end, neither brother was cut-out for formal education and took to the streets from an early age.

"Livia!" Johnny-Boy shouted up toward the open window. "Tell Janice to bring in her bike. Livia! And get some beer at the market."

He paused briefly for an answer, but none came.

"Get in the car". Corrado beckoned his brother. "Why you gotta yell all the time and let everyone know your business."

Ignoring him Johnny held his hands apart in an exaggerated shrug "Where's the Cadillac?"

"Just get in. We're late."

The pair set off for a meeting that had been arranged through an associate called Anthony Colonna, a New York wiseguy Corrado had sold some stolen goods to. The meeting was taking place in Brooklyn with a well-connected member of one of New York's Five Families.

"We gotta play this right. We don't wanna turn up in a Cadillac in New York in someone else's neighbourhood tryna look like we're someone. We gotta make like we're good earners but not like we're made of money in case he wants to muscle in. We don't know what this guy wants."

"Maybe he wants to muscle in." Johnny-Boy offered while lighting a cigarette.

"Right. Or maybe he knows we're good guys and wants to work with us".

"Or, maybe he wants to whack us out cos of something we did they didn't like in New York."

"We didn't do nothing." Corrado shook his head but seemed unconvinced by his own statement.

"I don't think we upset nobody."

"We gotta play the thing right."

"Like with the car and the casual clothes. I get it. Be conspicuous. Or inconspicuous. I don't remember which."

"Just let me do the talking. All due respect Johnny, you're my brother and I love you but this guy Colonna is my guy and he knows me. He's vouching for me. And he's vouching for you. But he doesn't know you."

"He knows I'm alright though."

"Sure, he knows you're alright. You're my brother. Anyway, just don't say nothing in case you say something he don't like and he don't think you're alright."

"You just said he knows I'm alright."

"The other guy! The New York guy. Just don't say nothing, don't admit to nothing. Don't mention any names or numbers or any hits we did. Let me do the talking. Be conspicuous".

Johnny-Boy grunted his agreement and drew deeply on his cigarette.

"What's the guy's name again?"

"Which guy?"

"The New York guy."

"Carmine Lupertazzi."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments as they reached the Pulaski Skyway and the familiar but uniquely-impressive skyline of lower Manhattan began to loom.

"How's Livia?"

"A pain in my ass! Don't ever get married. You got the sweet life my friend."

Corrado grinned. "Trouble in paradise?"

"I'm out all day busting my hump for her and the kids and all I get is _agita_."

"In your own home. A tragedy." Said Corrado in mock-sympathy for his brother's plight.

"I know right? She drives me out of my own home with her attitude. I gotta go to my girl's place for some peace….and then _she_ gives me to _agita_!" Johnny-Boy yelled slapping his hands onto his thighs dramatically.

They both chuckled. Johnny-Boy shook his head with an air of resignation and Corrado smiled wryly.

After making a stop-off in Little Italy to deliver an envelope, and then an argument about which route to take, they reached their destination a little ahead of time. The meeting place was a nondescript bar in the Bensonhurst neighbourhood of Brooklyn. Anthony Colonna was waiting outside and spotted them. He smiled broadly, threw down his cigarette and went to greet the two brothers.

"Anthony, this is my brother Johnny."

"Pleasure to meet you Johnny." Colonna shook Johnny-Boy's hand enthusiastically.

"Anthony. That's my boy's name. How you doin'?"

"We're all set here. Carmine's just finishing up another meeting so we'd better go in. Are you holding?" Colonna asked.

"I got a knife." Johnny answered.

"Leave it in the car. We'll be searched before we meet the guy."

Johnny-Boy took a hunting knife from his jacket pocket and threw it in the glove box and the three headed inside. There were no customers and a single bartender was sat at the end of the bar talking on the telephone. After five or so minutes, a door at the rear of the bar opened and a large man, thirtyish, dressed in a leather overcoat appeared. He ushered out a middle-aged man in a grey business suit and beckoned to Colonna who was studying the jukebox. A few moments later the leather coat doorman appeared again and proceeded to pat down the Sopranos brothers.

"OK." he grunted and pointed them toward the back room.

The room was a small former-rear saloon that may have been used for storage at some point but now seemed to function as a kind of meeting room or unofficial office. Leather coat closed the door and positioned himself in front of it. Colonna stood beside him. At the opposite side of the room stood another goon and at a table in the middle sat Carmine Lupertazzi. Corrado was surprised at how young he looked. Perhaps even younger than himself. He was dressed elegantly in an expensive three-piece suit, silk tie and silk handkerchief. His hair was dark and neatly slicked back. He sat upright but relaxed with his hands flat on the table top.

Lupertazzi was intelligent, ambitious and well-regarded and rising fast within his family. Rumour had it he was already an acting-captain. He was intelligent, greedy and business-minded and was looking to expand his money-making operations. Since Valachi and other informants, mob bosses had been more cautious and Lupertazzi saw that this was leading to reduced earnings and missed opportunities. He was impatient. He was against unnecessary violence and saw more value in gaining influence than ruling through intimidation. He wanted to invest more in legitimate-looking businesses, money-laundering and getting cops and politicians on the payroll.

"Come in fellas. Sit down" Lupertazzi pointed to two chairs opposite. "So you're the Jersey friends of Anthony here?"

"We're grateful for this meeting." Corrado said.

"This ain't a meeting kid. This is a discussion." Lupertazzi said sternly. "All due respect. Nobody respects Jersey. A bunch of no-good hicks they say. Bums they say. Pig farmers."

Johnny Boy bristled a little at this, but Corrado nodded grimly.

"That ain't me talking. It's just that Jersey ain't really recognised in New York. Not me. I respect good hard-working Italians wherever they are. Us Italians gotta stick together and I reckon there's potential out there. Jersey. This guy Colonna vouched for you. You're alright with me. Let's see."

Their host spoke quickly and self-assuredly but without emotion. The only hint of animation was the occasionally raising of his hands from the table - the slightest suggestion of that tendency that Italians have to express themselves with hand movements when talking. Otherwise he was still and measured, but direct.

"If you're alright, you'll be alright. Us young guys, we gotta keep this thing going, but things gotta change a little bit. What you got going out there?"

Corrado looked at Colonna, not sure how much to give away. Colonna nodded at him to continue. "We do OK. We got a couple card games, I got a few bookies, a pizza shop, a bar. My brother here, he's got a shylock operation. We got a small crew. Some good earners on the streets."

"Any connections in Atlantic City or Philly? Florida?" Carmine probed.

"We pretty much got our own turf. We're good earners, but we don't do nothing without the boss' say-so." Johnny answered.

"We gotta get the OK for anything big." Corrado added.

"Good. Loyalty. You gotta have loyalty . Especially in this day and age. Fuckin Joe Valachi. FBI. The government? Forget about it."

Everyone in the room agreed. Joe Valachi had caused a great deal of problems for the mob by giving a lot of inside information to the government. His testimony had blown the lid on what had been in many ways a secret society and given law enforcement a greater understanding of what they called La Cosa Nostra.

"Listen, the whole world is changing. It ain't the old days no more. 1967 now. Jeez. The space programme. Commies. Indo-China. Fuckin beatniks? The Blacks now. Drugs. The whole world is going crazy. Lot of money to be made. Lot of risks though. What do you guys know about narcotics?"

"We never got involved in no narcotics." Corrado shrugged.

"That's good." Lupertazzi nodded. "The old guys don't like it. That stuff will get you locked up or whacked in no time. What are you gonna do?" The nodding slowed. "The world's changing though. Our thing? I dunno."

Corrado and Johnny gave each other an uneasy sideways look. The guy was dancing around a little. What was he getting at? Was it a trap? Carmine sensed the discomfort.

"Look I like you guys. I hear good things. Things are getting a little tough with the federales and stool-pigeons, but there are a lot of opportunities for good guys. What I'm saying is, when the time comes a little work might come your way. Sometimes people gotta put work outside the city because of the heat. Then maybe, you know, we can look at doing a little business. I can help you and your crew. That is if you can handle the work."

Johnny Boy beamed at the thought of being given contracts from New York, "Handle it? Sure. Hey thanks. We're honoured. You know we gotta run things upstairs, but…."

Lupertazzi cut in "I know you gotta run things up the chain of command. We'll get that all straightened out. All the right channels…"

"Carmine…" The leather coat flunky interjected and tapped his watch.

"Right boys, I gotta go." Lupertazzi was up and at the door quickly and without ceremony. He turned, "Remember; earn good money, don't do anything stupid and stay out of jail and you'll have friends here". Colonna followed and raised his hand to the brothers to wait there.

The Soprano's relaxed a little and allowed themselves a deep breath and mutual nods of cautious satisfaction. After a few moments Colonna returned.

"OK fellas. Let's go get a drink and I'll tell you what just happened."

In the bar, Colonna explained that there was in fact already some work lined up for them, a hit which Lupertazzi was going to try to get sanctioned by the bosses. This would also mean getting the OK from DiMeo in New Jersey for the Soprano boys to carry it out. If the contract went without a hitch, Lupertazzi would look at partnering with the Sopranos in some money-making schemes in New Jersey.

"I really lucked out meeting Carmine." Colonna said. "He likes what I do over here and in Jersey and he wants to branch out. This is good for you people. They really have no respect for Jersey over here. Bums they say. Farmers…."

"Alright, alright, we heard it." Johnny-Boy cut in.

The situation was both exciting and troubling for Corrado. He had the chance to make some serious money working with powerful and well-connected New York people, but a piece of everything he made had to be kicked up within the family. The Jersey family was small and close-knit and it would be difficult to conceal new rackets and earnings and not to share with his captain and ultimately the boss. Would he really try to hide his earnings? This kind of disloyalty could get you whacked. Then again, Jersey wasn't exactly a tight ship and Corrado thought North Jersey hadn't being run right for a while. Lupertazzi was right about one thing. There was untapped potential in New Jersey.

Could they trust him though? Was this the start of a partnership or was the guy going to use them for dirty work and they would get whacked out later on. Lupertazzi could be going out on a limb with his own family – going maverick. He consoled himself with the belief his father gave him that 'You can't trust nobody but yourself'.


End file.
